All Against One."He has died"
The words echoed through the cold, stone hall, thick with the metallic scent of blood. They were the first words I heard since regaining consciousness and the first time I saw King Ikki's eyes, once sharp and unyielding, emptied of life.
Ikki, the seventh servant of the Iron Monarch… or perhaps I should call him brother.
Not that it matters. To me, he was nothing more than another pawn of fate. And this so-called All Against One what a peculiar title. I wondered who, or what, it referred to.
Before I could dwell on it, a scream shattered the suffocating silence. One of the castle's old retainers, his face twisted with terror, broke down and cried, "We are finished! Our last hope has perished!"
Panic swept through the hall like wildfire. Fear gripped every heart, though I could not yet grasp why.
Everyone, that is, except one man.
My elder brother King Ikki rose slowly, a smile tugging at his lips, undiminished by the blood and death around him. His voice, calm and resolute, cut through the dread.
". Our demise is not decided by anyone but me. There is no room for cowards among my ranks. Prepare yourselves I will address the High Council."
That was Ikki. The so-called King of Heroes. A national icon, adored by his people, respected by allies and feared by enemies. Revered by all… save one.
Me.
I, Allen, who gazed at him with nothing but hatred.
And yet, even then even in that moment he turned to me, his bloodstained face alight with joy, and asked, "Well, Allen? What did you think of your brother's performance? Did I look cool?
"Who am I?"
That was the first thing I uttered when Ikki saved my life. I remember nothing: not my name, not my origins, not a single fragment of family memory. All I know is that I awoke amid a war so vast it nearly annihilated the universe one that ended with the death of the legendary Iron Monarch, Goro.
Even Goro a being who could obliterate galaxies met his end in a pathetic collapse. Forsaken by allies and servants, defeated by those he once dominated. Isn't it ironic? They say the gods choose those destined to become Iron Monarchs. How many throughout eternity have worn themselves to dust, only to have their efforts crushed by one truly chosen? How utterly pathetic.
Then Ikki emerged from the chaos. In the torrents of horror evil, fear, agony, and unending slaughter he became the beacon of hope. He was weak, defeated countless times, yet he never quit. He fell, rose, fell, rose, and the world watched. Despite his failures, despite his limitations, he persevered... and, against all odds, he won. A hero to the masses. A peacekeeper.
Why? How can a man so flawed be called a hero? How can someone who failed so often, who saved so little, earn the adoration I've never known? Blinded by his courage, they fail to see true greatness standing before them. I Allen born with power that shatters reality itself.
I command the Iron Chain: the power to impose any law I desire. I could decree everyone shall live forever and death would vanish. I could decree the sky is red and it would blush at my whim. My power even protects me, automatically. Yet there is one oddity: it cannot affect Ikki. Nothing I do touches him.
This impotence is maddening.
In our world, strength is measured by SERRA: the deeper your reserve, the greater your life and power. To master SERRA is to ascend to Iron Monarch eternal life and absolute dominion. But why go through that gauntlet when I Allen was born chosen? When I carry the very tool to rule? And yet, powerless before Ikki.
All I ever wanted was to be the hero the one who saved everything, who stood tallest in the acclaim of others. But with Ikki immune to me, that dream slips through my grasp. And so I ask again: Who am I? And why must Ikki weak, flawed, imperfect shine brighter than the one who wields the laws of creation? if only he didn't exist.